The_Complete_Chronicles_of_Narnia_(volumes_1-7,_in_order_of_publication)

"A Marsh-wiggle. Don't ask me what it is. I couldn't see it last night. I'm getting up. Let's
go and look for it."
"How beastly one feels after sleeping in one's clothes," said Jill, sitting up.
"I was just thinking how nice it was not to have to dress," said Eustace.
"Or wash either, I suppose," said Jill scornfully. But Scrubb had already got up, yawned,
shaken himself, and crawled out of the wigwam. Jill did the same.
What they found outside was quite unlike the bit of Narnia they had seen on the day
before. They were on a great flat plain which was cut into countless little islands by
countless channels of water. The islands were covered with coarse grass and bordered
with reeds and rushes. Sometimes there were beds of rushes about an acre in extent.
Clouds of birds were constantly alighting in them and rising from them again-duck,
snipe, bitterns, herons. Many wigwams like that in which they had passed the night could
be seen dotted about, but all at a good distance from one another; for Marsh-wiggles are
people who like privacy. Except for the fringe of the forest several miles to the south and
west of them, there was not a tree in sight. Eastward the flat marsh stretched to low sandhills
on the horizon, and you could tell by the salt tang in the wind which blew from that
direction that the sea lay over there. To the North there were low pale-coloured hills, in
places bastioned with rock. The rest was all flat marsh. It would have been a depressing
place on a w et evening. Seen under a morning sun, with a fresh wind blowing, and the
air filled with the crying of birds, there was something fine and fresh and clean about its
loneliness. The children felt their spirits rise.
"Where has the thingummy got to, I wonder?" said Jill.
"The Marsh-wiggle," said Scrubb, as if he were rather proud of knowing the word. "I
expect-hullo, that must be him." And then they both saw him, sitting with his back to
them, fishing, about fifty yards away. He had been hard to see at first because he was
nearly the same colour as the marsh and because he sat so still.
"I suppose we'd better go and speak to him," said Jill. Scrubb nodded. They both felt a
little nervous.
As they drew nearer, the figure turned its head and showed them a long thin face with
rather sunken cheeks, a tightly shut mouth, a sharp nose, and no beard. He was wearing a
high, pointed hat like a steeple, with an enormously wide flat brim. The hair, if it could
be called hair, which hung over his large ears was greeny-grey, and each lock was flat
rather than round, so that they were like tiny reeds. His expression was solemn, his
complexion muddy, and you could see at once that he took a serious view of life.
"Good morning, Guests," he said. "Though when I say good I don't mean it won't
probably turn to rain or it might he snow, or fog, or thunder. You didn't get any sleep, I
dare say.